


The Name That Calls You Home

by The_Mouse_of_Anon



Series: The Lab Escape AU [2]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Family Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lab Escape AU, Name Changes, TMNT AU, Yoshi is a good dad, blind Yoshi, traumatic past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23048509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Mouse_of_Anon/pseuds/The_Mouse_of_Anon
Summary: A TMNT Lab Escape AU ficWhen Yoshi took in four escaped turtles and gave them a safe place to stay, there was a lot he hadn't quite been prepared for. Part of it was how they would continuously break his heart, and another part of it was how they'd wormed their way in close before he even had time to realize it.And now he had an upset turtle-blanket blob in the middle of a room.“Can I convince you to come out?”
Series: The Lab Escape AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656400
Comments: 14
Kudos: 84





	The Name That Calls You Home

**Author's Note:**

> Some things to know about this AU of mine: Yoshi is blind and hasn’t been mutated, the boys were found soon after they were mutated and were mostly kept out of public view for scientific study in labs for most of their lives, and the four of them escaped when they were 15 and just happened to find their way to Yoshi’s home– a Japanese-style housing complex on the edge of New York.
> 
> With that out of the way, buckle up for loads of feels and traumatized turtles having a happy ending ahead.

The youngest was buried under a mountain of blankets. Did Yoshi even own that many blankets? He hadn’t thought he had, but the boy was buried all the same— under a pile higher than Yoshi’s knees and closer toward his hips in height. Maybe he had some pillows in there too. There was no telling unless he could coax the youngest out.

So, after being certain he wouldn’t risk sitting on any wayward limbs, Yoshi settled into a seiza next to the pile. “Are you awake?”

After a long moment or two there was a muffled and slightly mopey, “Yeah.” (Honestly, these boys were going to be the death of him with how they continuously broke his heart.)

“Can I convince you to come out?”

“…Don’t really wanna.”

“Mm, that’s a shame,” he said evenly. “I’ll understand if you want to stay in there, but I was hoping I might offer you some mint cocoa. If you’re interested.”

There was some shuffling for a moment or two and Yoshi could feel the blanket pile shift, soon followed by the boy’s much less muffled voice. “…What’s mint cocoa?”

“You know what hot cocoa is?”

“Kinda.”

“It’s that made with mint tea.” By then Yoshi had at least introduced the boys to mint tea, so the flavor would hardly be a surprise on that count if he agreed.

There was a quick burst of movement as the boy went from laying stomach-down and somewhat curled up on the floor to suddenly sitting up. If there were pillows in that mass somewhere, one or two might have fallen. “You can _do that?_ ”

Yoshi couldn’t help chuckling at his sudden enthusiasm. Far better than hearing him sound miserable as he stewed over who-knew-what horrors he and his brothers had been through. “Indeed. In fact, if you want, I can teach you.” He didn’t have to be able to see to imagine the way the boy’s eyes lit up in time with his delighted gasp, seconds before he suddenly found his arms full of 15-year-old scaly and shell-bearing excited teenager. That amount of contact alone was a win. Though it was nothing next to the words pouring from his mouth.

“ _Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!_ They _never_ let us learn anything like that. Did I tell you that? I think I told you that. One of us told you that. I think. But they _never_ let us learn how to make anything or cook anything and all we got was this lame food, same thing day in and day out and it was the _worst_ — I hate soggy leafy stuff by the way, not tea, tea’s good, but I mean like… salad that was probably about to go bad. I dunno. But anyway, they never told us what any of it really was, I mean like beyond the basics, and they never were all that interested in letting us learn stuff they thought ‘wasn’t important’— but you’re gonna _teach me_?”

The joy and almost disbelieving hope were practically bursting from his words, and Yoshi felt a wave of fond warmth sweep through him at that overwhelming expression of trust. “Yes, I’ll teach you. I’ll teach you and your brothers anything I can that any of you may wish to know. Or things that I know will help you.”

A delighted noise that started out almost as a hum erupted from the turtle before he briefly tightened his hug and said, “You’re the _best_.” Releasing Yoshi, he almost bounced to his feet and only just kept his urge to start excitedly rambling again in check.

As soon as Yoshi got to his feet, he led the way to the kitchen (with the youngest excitedly bouncing next to him almost the entire way). Moments like this were what made Yoshi realize that maybe he _was_ cut out to be a parent. Useless though it was, he couldn’t help but wonder how these boys might have turned out if he’d had them from the start. _‘No use in dwelling on “might-have-beens”. Best to focus on now.’_

There was a brief whisper of feet in the hall on their way, most likely the eldest ducking out of the way. He was a shy one, all four of them were, but the eldest seemed to be the most mindful and concerned over getting in trouble. Perhaps, given time, they would each move past expecting mistreatment. Yoshi was willing to remain as patient as he needed to, for their sake. Still, he gave no indication that he’d noticed the presence of the eldest or the way he’d gotten out of the way. Calling attention to it felt wrong, like it would have put the poor boy in the spot of having to be self-conscious and feel bad over small things he did on reflex.

By everything sacred, Yoshi really had become a parent without intending to, hadn’t he?

He and the youngest finally reached the kitchen and Yoshi began walking him through the steps for mint cocoa and answering questions as they came. Bit by bit the youngest was thawing even more, his upset gradually being pushed out of his mind as they went.

It was as they were measuring out the cocoa for the mixture that Yoshi asked lightly, “About what led you to bury yourself under the blankets-” there was a brief hitch in breath that let him know the youngest had frozen for a moment, “-do you want to talk about it, or would you rather forget about it for the time being?”

He fidgeted for a moment or two before quietly saying, “Don’t like thinking about it, but it’s kinda there and isn’t gonna go away.”

So it _was_ serious. Yoshi reached out to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “I’m not going to ask you to talk about anything you don’t want to. But if you want to… can I ask what’s bothering you?”

He shifted from one foot to the other, clearly wanting to talk but reluctant to at the same time. Yoshi waited. “…They never…” He let out a gusty sigh, most likely frustrated with himself over how hard it was to say. “They never treated us… like you do. They didn’t… They just saw we were different and… I mean, I know we’re not human— _you_ know we’re not human— but they always… they always treated us like we were animals and couldn’t talk or really understand what we were saying.”

And there he went breaking Yoshi’s heart again.

“And you and your brothers are _never_ going back to that,” he promised the boy firmly. “I meant it when I opened my home to the four of you. I will _never_ turn the four of you over. I will _never_ let anyone take the four of you away or separate you from each other again. You are so much more than what they thought of you, and I can promise that I will always do everything in my power to keep you and your brothers safe, while giving the four of you the best tools I can so you can defend yourselves. If I have a say of it, neither you or your brothers will ever see the inside of a lab again.”

There was silence for a moment or two, then the soft sound of the boy putting the measuring spoons down on the counter right before a sniffle that he fought to contain escaped him. He was shaking.

Yoshi didn’t even hesitate. He gently pulled the boy into a hug and held him as he clung and tried to fight the sobs and tears forcing their way free. “I promise,” Yoshi repeated. “I promise. Never again.”

“N-no one ever cared before.” That hurt. “N-no one ever- we could… we could cry, or scream, or beg them to stop, a-and they never-” He choked on his words and shuddered.

Yoshi could hear one— no, two— of the boys arrive at the doorway to discreetly peek in. Clearly checking on their little brother to make certain he was okay. And there again was that surge of warm fondness for the boys, the same one that told Yoshi, whether he’d intended it or not, he was a parent. “I care. For as long as the four of you stay with me I’ll always care, and even beyond then if it comes to be that the four of you choose to leave. But I will always care, and the four of you will always have a place here.”

“…Can we stay with you forever?” The question was a hesitant whisper, barely gotten out and muffled against Yoshi’s shoulder while the turtle still desperately clung to him.

“If you and your brothers want to stay forever Verdi, then you can stay forever,” he murmured.

Another sniffle or two, then, “Do I have to keep that name? Don’t like it.”

Yoshi was torn between feeling his heart break yet again and overwhelming warmth at the fact that this boy— this sweet, caring, energetic, traumatized yet bright boy— was willing to be open with him about something that hurt that deeply. “Your name is _your_ name. If you don’t like the one you have now, we’ll find you another one. One you _do_ like.”

The youngest gave a weak laugh, but it was a genuinely happy sound through his tears. “You’re the best. You’re like- I- …I wish you were the one who found us.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from the doorway— definitely the eldest— and a slight scrape of a shell against a wall as another (to the eldest’s left) took half a step back from the doorway. Neither of them retreated though, so that was a good sign.

As he traced soothing circles on the youngest’s shell, Yoshi hummed thoughtfully. “There’s a lot that I wish you boys had never had to live through, but you’re here now. Safe. And I’m glad you are.”

The youngest gently pulled away with a sniff and, from the sounds of it, scrubbed at his face to wipe away some of the tears.

And then there was another shift from the doorway, and the third-eldest quietly asked, “Could I change my name too? ‘Forsyth’ is okay and all, but… I don’t want to remember what it makes me remember.”

“ _For!_ ” the eldest quietly hissed. Trying to do damage control when there was no real damage. These boys were going to break Yoshi’s heart in more ways than he would ever have imagined possible before he met them.

“It’s fine,” Yoshi directed at the eldest. “Why don’t one of the two of you collect Corsa while your little brother and I finish up here? We can talk things out together, and no one will be the last to know.”

The eldest hesitated, but after some nonverbal signal the other darted away to track down their second-eldest. Something that had rapidly become clear in Yoshi’s interactions with the four of them was that the eldest felt it was his responsibility to look out for the other three, and through that he’d ended up in a vague position of leadership.

With that resolved, Yoshi turned his attention back to the youngest. “Shall we?”

It was clear that the boy was beaming even if his voice was still a little shaky when he spoke. “Yeah. Will there be enough for all of us?”

“There should be, but it may be best to give your brothers the option of if they want it or just mint tea.”

That seemed to be enough to pique the eldest’s interest. Even despite that his tone gave away his reluctance to ask, to sate his curiosity, afraid of pushing too far past a line he couldn’t see or recognize. “What are you making?”

“Mint cocoa!” his little brother answered brightly (or at least as brightly as he was able to in that moment). “You want some?”

“Just tea, thanks.”

“Awwwww, but _Lenox_ , it’s a chance to try something new! That he taught me to make!” Judging by the slight swish of air, the boy had been animatedly gesturing at Yoshi— though he’d been careful to keep from colliding with him as he did so. It was amazing how quickly his mood could turn around, but no doubt that was an effect of how he coped. Focusing on happier things and having something to look forward to that meant a great deal to him seemed to make dealing with the hard things just that little bit easier.

The eldest hesitated again. “…I don’t know if I’ll like it.”

“Well _I’m_ gonna have some. So you can try mine and then make up your mind.”

“…Okay.” It was a reluctant compromise, but at least he was trying instead of shutting down to avoid doing anything that might get him in trouble.

Soon enough the other two rejoined them (after the eldest had tried a sip before settling on tea). By way of greeting, the second-eldest said gruffly, “Th’ hell has For so excited, an’ why the f- why do we have ta ‘talk it out’?” Despite his low-key snarling, the fact that he chose to censor himself spoke volumes for how much respect he’d come to have for Yoshi— and Yoshi knew that respect was hard won. (He certainly hadn’t cared for the first few weeks after Yoshi had met him and his brothers.)

“For and I are gonna change our names and d- Yoshi’s gonna help. And we made mint cocoa, so you have to try it.”

That earned a snort. “‘Have to,’ huh?”

“ _Corsaaaaa_ ,” the youngest almost whined. “It’s the first time I got to make anything, and it’s good. Please?”

Naturally the eldest backed him up. “I tried it.”

“Okay, okay— _stop it with the eyes_. I said okay already!” Despite his protests, the grumpiest of the brothers didn’t sound anywhere near as annoyed with his little brother’s puppy eyes as he tried to convey.

“Perhaps we should take this to the living room?” It was a gentle prod on Yoshi’s part, but it proved to be enough for the boys to gather their mugs and leave the kitchen with him. And though being led wasn’t necessary due to his long familiarity with his home, when he felt a scaly three-fingered hand take his own he allowed the youngest to hold on.

It started out slow as they all settled and drank their tea or cocoa— a name here, a name there, carefully considered and either outright dismissed or added into a list for consideration. At one point the third-eldest had retrieved a notebook and started noting down the acceptable possibilities— which was entirely needed since Yoshi had him retrieve a few of his books in the process. There was some light bickering back and forth among the brothers before the two eldest eventually admitted they wanted to let go of the names that they’d been given to push back some of the bad memories (just as much as their younger brothers), but getting the eldest to admit that without fear of crossing a line was like pulling teeth.

Eventually the second-eldest gave an aggravated sigh and snapped at the eldest, “Would ya just admit already that you never wanna hear that fuckin’ name again?” A beat of silence. “You can stop givin’ me the judge-y look over my swearin’ any time now. Point still stands. No one’s gettin’ mad over you wantin’ a name change when we all want it for ourselves, an’ Yoshi’s _helping_. So stop tryin’ t’ dodge a problem that doesn’t exist.”

Another stretch of silence.

“He has a point,” the third-eldest put in gently, the scratch of his pen stilling. “It wouldn’t be fair if we got to change our names and you didn’t. None of us want to think about _that_. And these names are just… reminders. Reminders of what we left. And we have the opportunity to leave all of that behind.”

“Can we ever really leave it all behind?” the eldest murmured. “Can we ever _forget_ or stop having nightmares? Or erase our scars?”

The third-eldest mulled that over for a moment or two. “Maybe not, but we can get rid of things that remind us.”

Yoshi could almost _feel_ the indecision and tension of the eldest. When he reached out to touch the boy’s hand he found it fisted on his knee. Maybe white-knuckling with how tense his hand was. Had the eldest been sitting seiza this entire time? Not important at the moment, but worth noting. “I know you are trying to avoid trouble, for yourself and your brothers, but trust that I will do my best to never have my expectations be unpredictable. No one will leave you with scars or harm you again. And should anyone try it, they will have to get through me to get to you or your brothers. If you want a new name we will help you find a new name, and whatever may come, no one will be able to take that from you.”

There was silence for a long moment. The boy was trembling, albeit subtly, but he seemed to have decided to trust Yoshi at his word as his tension eased slightly. “I… I don’t want… If we change our names, I don’t want to…” He gave a sound that might have been a weak laugh, a quiet sound of distress, or both. “Is it ridiculous that if we change our names I’m scared of it making us more distant from each other?”

“So we go with names that are connected or whatever.” The youngest sounded bright, hopeful, trusting that the five of them would come to an acceptable decision. “If they’re connected— like the whole street name thing— then that fixes it, right?”

“I… think that could work,” the eldest agreed. The hand beneath Yoshi’s relaxed a little more, at least one worry alleviated. Yoshi gave a reassuring squeeze before withdrawing his hand.

There was a rustle of paper as the third-eldest looked over what he’d noted down up to that point. “…We’re going to have to re-think some of these then. Because while we’ve all got some we like, I don’t know that any of them are really connected…”

“Well _shit_. I’m not complainin’ but this makes things even more complicated, y’know?” A brief scrape of the edge of a shell against the floor accompanied that comment; likely the second-eldest had decided to flop over on the floor in an expression of his (muted) frustration— though the lack of any audible thump was an impressive feat, however accidental. “An’ I’m _not_ goin’ for that thing of us havin’ names that all start with the same sound.”

There were a few long moments of consideration at that comment. The brothers were highly aware of their limited knowledge (the third-eldest had been rocketing through books since the third day they’d been living with Yoshi and routinely peppering him with questions before sharing some of his newfound knowledge with the other three) and, while they knew they could hardly be blamed for what they hadn’t had an opportunity to learn, there was still a vague sense of shame hanging around the four of them for what they didn’t know. The books that Yoshi still had, despite having not been able to read anything not in braille for years now (mostly kept out of nostalgia), helped to a certain extent but there were still layers of context and meaning that the brothers knew they didn’t have yet.

It was as his hands absentmindedly roamed over the ridged leather spine of a book on art history that he had in his lap— a book he’d gotten when he wasn’t much older than these boys were now and that he didn’t think he could bring himself to part with— that an idea clicked into place. Perhaps it might overstep a boundary, however slightly, but he’d leave accepting or rejecting his suggestion up to the boys. “I may have a solution.”

The shift in attention was immediate.

“I’ve had an interest in art history for a long time. From before the four of you were born. It may be overdone, but if the four of you were my sons and I’d had you from the start— and if I had wanted to keep your names connected— I would have named you for my favorite artists.”

The youngest was immediately leaning into his space, shoulder bumping against Yoshi’s right. If he were any more gleeful he would have been bouncing in place. “Wha’d’you think you’d’ve named me?”

A smile tugged at Yoshi’s lips. “Michelangelo.” With the boy’s interest it was somehow easier to say.

“I like it!” the youngest said brightly. “What about For?”

The turtle in question made a mildly annoyed sound (directed at his little brother) before saying more evenly to Yoshi, “I am curious what you would have named me. If you don’t mind.” Yet another detail worth noting; apparently getting spoken for grated on him.

This one was just as easily decided as the last one. “Donatello.”

The second-eldest sat up with another scrape of his shell against the floor. When he spoke, his tone was slightly guarded but interested. “Me?”

“Raphael.” There was a quality to the second-eldest’s near-silence that gave a sense that he approved, even if he wasn’t entirely certain how to respond.

And that left one. The eldest. Back again to that shy quietness, desperate for approval, as he cautiously asked in a near-whisper, “What would you have named me?”

Yoshi turned his head to face the eldest, his smile warm and welcoming. “I would have named you Leonardo.”

The youngest was grinning, Yoshi could hear it in his voice. “I like the names! D’you guys like the names? ’Cause _I_ like the names. Plus there’s like, the whole thing of they’re what he’d name us if we were his sons. So y’know, if we go with these ones it kinda feels like we’re saying we’ve got a dad. Right?” Ah, so he was observant about subtleties like that— something good to know.

“I-is that okay?” One of these days the eldest was going to stop expecting the worst to happen if he reached out for care and affection, and Yoshi would be as patient and for as long as he needed to.

The second-eldest snorted. “Gee, I dunno _Leo_ , it’s not like he didn’t just suggest the names while sayin’ that’s what he would’ve named us if we were his _kids_ or anythin’.”

“ _I don’t want to assume-_ ,” the eldest started to snap.

“It is fine.” Yoshi kept his tone gentle and soothing. The last thing any of them needed in this moment was the two of them getting into an unnecessary fight. “And yes, it’s alright. If the four of you will have me, I will gladly be your father. Without hesitation.”

The third-eldest snapped the notebook shut and set it aside with a dull thump. “Well that settles that then. We’re home, we have new names, and-”

“And we have a dad!” Michelangelo interrupted as he glommed onto Yoshi again.

That was something Yoshi expected, but he was caught by surprise as Donatello, Leonardo, and Raphael each eventually joined in (though they might have been tugged in by one of their brothers). Even so, there was something about it that just felt _right_. Their home, and their little family, was complete. “My sons…”

Yoshi knew he’d never take any of it back for an instant. And judging by the way his sons tightened the hug, neither would they.


End file.
